


Here the Whole Time

by frogy



Category: Macdonald Hall - Gordon Korman
Genre: F/F, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-13
Updated: 2010-12-13
Packaged: 2017-10-13 16:11:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/139179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frogy/pseuds/frogy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Jordie doesn't answer his tweets, taking Latin is a bad idea, Macdonald Hall starts a band, Bruno follows the rules, and there are many mutual crushes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Here the Whole Time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nimori](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nimori/gifts).



When Bruno left for summer vacation after junior year, he had three duffle bags, a bowling ball, hockey skates, and a bird cage full of whiffle balls (Boots didn't ask).

When Bruno arrives for senior year, he has three duffle bags, a bowling ball, hockey skates, and a guitar.

"Since when do you play guitar?" Boots asks, unpacking his two suitcases on his side of room 306. Putting his books on his desk and lining up his shoes under the bed of this little room feels like coming home, even if it's not really home until Bruno's stuff explodes all over Boots carefully arranged life.

"Over the summer," Bruno says, leaving his stuff in a heap to sprawl on his back on the bare mattress of his bed. "There was fuck else to do at the lake house." Boots knows Bruno spends the summers going crazy at his parent's summer estate from the past years when he spent a few weeks there keeping Bruno entertained, sparing the koi from having their pond turned orange out of boredom. "What were you so busy with that you couldn't come visit this year?"

"I was a councilor at a science camp for underprivileged boys," Boots flushes and buries himself in digging through his suitcase as he answers. It's not a lie, per se. It's just that he was equally busy hooking up with the camp lifeguard, Jack, in stolen moments in the councilor's lounge and in the backseat of Jack's toyota. When camp ended three weeks ago, it just seemed easier to stay home and steal a few more elicit days with Jack than trying to reconcile this new piece of himself with a best friend that he's always been a step too close to.

"Boring," Bruno dismisses, flipping on to his stomach. "You'll pay for not rescuing me in my time of need. Now you have to listen to me play all year."

"Whatever, Rock Star," Boots snorts. Bruno's attention is short and intense. He'll forget about the guitar as soon as the next cause for committee presents itself. "Unpack you bags. You're not famous enough for someone to do it for you yet."

\---

Bruno is just beginning to haphazardly empty his bags when Boots finishes putting his last pair of shoes lines up under his bed. Boots turns and surveys his work; everything is in order except for the pile of sports equipment that needs to go to various locker rooms. Sometimes he thinks he plays too many sports, even if he wouldn't be here without all of those athletic scholarships. At least swimming doesn't have a lot of equipment. With a sigh, he starts piling on his football, hockey, and soccer bags.

"I'm going to go dump this stuff in the locker room, I'll see you at dinner," Boots tells Bruno.

"Sure," Bruno says, not looking up from whatever he's doing.

In the dining hall, Boots gets cornered by Mark while in line for his welcome back mystery meat. Mark wants to do a football season preview in the first issue of the school paper. Boots wants to be able to tell Mark they're in for a winning season, but without Cathy he thinks they're pretty much screwed. Mark can't print that, even if it's true, and they take a seat at the dorm 3 table without a break in their debate on the team's chances.

Most of the mystery-meat through, Boots's phone nearly vibrates off his plastic tray with a text. It's from Diane, wanting to know if she and Cathy should be expecting a visit from them tonight. She and Cathy have singles this year, so if he and Bruno are planning on coming, the girls need forewarning. The whole thing is weird. Boots can't imagine not living with Bruno. This is just one more way he'll never understand girls.

"Hey Bru-" Boots looks up to check with Bruno so he can answer Diane, but is cut short when he doesn't see Bruno at their table. A quick glance around the room reveals that Bruno isn't there at all.

Turning back to Mark, Boots asks, "Have you seen Bruno?"

"No," Mark says confused, looking around the room seemingly to confirm what he's saying. "That's weird, He's here, right?"

"Yes, I left him unpacking in our room," Boots says.

"Bruno, unpacking?" Mark asks.

It didn't strike Boots weird when he left, but now that he thinks of it, Bruno's usually not fully unpacked until October, when he has to empty his bags so he can pack up to go home for Thanksgiving break. "You're right, that is weird."

"Did he say anything else? Like, maybe about getting a personality transplant over the summer?" Mark asks.

"He learned to play the guitar," Bruno says, because that's about as far as their conversation went.

"He any good?" Mark asks. "I don't have an arts feature for the first issue yet. Do you think he'd want to be interviewed?"

"I don't know, I haven't heard him play yet," Boots says. "But, Bruno is always up for talking about himself, so I think you've got a story."

"Now, you just need to give me a good football quote," Mark says wryly.

"No can do," Boots says, getting up. "I'm going to go check in on Bruno, I'll see you in classes tomorrow."

"Bye," Mark says as Boots takes his tray to the bus station.

\---

Bruno is sitting on his bed, bag unpacked, guitar in his lap when Boots gets back to their room.

"There you are," Boots says, standing in the doorway.

"Here I am," Bruno agrees, putting the guitar down next to him.

"Why weren't you at dinner?" Boots asks, moving to sit down on his bed, mirroring Bruno on his side of the room.

"Wanted to finish unpacking," Bruno says shrugging.

"But you never unpack," Boots says, confused.

"You asked me to," Bruno says, like it's really that simple.

"You never do what I ask." This is getting stranger and stranger. "In fact, you generally do the exact opposite." Bruno just shrugs. "Is everything okay?"

"Fine," Bruno says. "It was just a long drive back."

Boots doesn't know whether or not to believe him. He decides to drop it. If that's really all it is, Bruno will be back to normal tomorrow. Then, Boots remembers what he was seeking Bruno out for. A trip to visit Cathy and Diane is sure to cheer Bruno up. There's nothing he loves more than breaking the rules. "Diane invited us over tonight, you up for it?" Boots says, holding out his phone, showing Bruno the texts.

Bruno squints at Boots's phone. "Since when do you and Diane text?" he asks.

"Since this summer," Boots says. "Turns out she lives right by me. We hung out."

Bruno scrunches his nose unhappily at that. "I think I'm going to skip tonight."

"Are you sure?" Boots asks, disbelieving.

"Yea, I want to get an early night," Bruno says.

"Do you mind if I go?" Boots asks. He never got over complaining about Bruno's nighttime excursions, but now that he has the option to stay in and get a good night's sleep for the first day of school, he can't think of anything he wants less. They're supposed to have one glorious year left, ruling the school. Boots already resolved himself to not do anything to ruin it. He and Bruno are supposed to be kings, even if it means spending the year wanting Bruno and not doing anything about it. Bruno is supposed to be taking charge, not sitting rumpled and sad on his bed looking for all the world like he needs a hug. Boots cannot give him a hug.

"Oh, no," Bruno says, sounding surprised. "Go ahead."

So Boots texts Diane that he'll be there. He can't stay here, watching Bruno twist around on his bed, letting his shirt ride up, exposing bare skin at his hip.

\---

An hour after lights out Boots shimmies out the window without Bruno, and slinks across the road to Diane's window. He makes it across easily, seeing neither hide nor hair of either schools lookout guard. Diane's window is open and she's sitting there waiting for him when he arrives.

"Hey," he huffs, pulling himself over the second floor windowsill from the ivy trellis, tumbling into Diane's room.

"Hi," Diane says, offering a hand to help him up. "What's up with Bruno?" she asks.

Boots sits down at Diane's desk, across from where she perches herself on her bed. "I don't know. He's been weird all day."

"Do you think he knows?" she asks.

"What?" Boots says, purposely dumb. It only took them three years of friendship to discover that Diane is from five blocks away from him at home. So, she had a front seat view of his summer fling and they bonded over their shared ‘I'm in love with my roommate' epiphanies.

"You know," she says.

"No way," Boots says. "I was totally normal. _Bruno unpacked today_."

"Wow, that is serious," Diane says.

"Where's Cathy?" Boots asks looking around, just realizing that she's missing.

"In her room. Asleep," Diane says, downtrodden.

"And to think we were worried about messing up our senior years," Boots says looking glum.

Diane sits there with an answering pout on her face, looking around her depressingly single room. Then she remembers the tiramisu that she liberated from their welcome back feast. She gets up and grabs the plates from behind Boots on the desk. "Cake?" she says, offering him a plate. "We can always eat our feelings.

Boots takes the plate with a silent glare, and takes a bite.  
\---

Boots should have taken Bruno's advice and stayed in last night. Boots is exhausted. It's day one and the teachers are already loading on the work, which is what finds Boots in the library after his last class of the day ends, looking for a book on (something Canadian) for the history paper that is due next week (really, wtf is with all this work?).

So, most of the dorm is already assembled in his room when he gets back.

"What's this?" Boots asks. He likes to think Bruno would have remembered to invite him to a committee meeting. Not that there's a committee that he knows of. Or any injustice going on in the hall that would require the formation of one.

"A band meeting," Bruno says.

"We have a band?" Boots asks. Last he checked, Bruno was the only one who spent the summer learning an instrument.

"We do now!" Bruno exclaims excitedly.

"I don't think I can be in a band," Elmer says. I have to make sure my (scientific name) grow correctly. It's very exciting, I spent the summer splicing the genes together, and if they make it maturity, I will have created a whole new type of mushroom!"

"Yea Bruno, I have a paper to edit," Mark says.

"And I'll be busy bulking up for weightlifting," Wilbur says, a glazed look in his eyes about all the steak he'll be eating.

One by one, they all give Bruno their excuses, too busy with school, with sports, with applying for college, with life, until they've each spoken their piece, the room getting quiet again. That's when Sidney speaks, tentative and quiet, "I can play drums."

"My man, Sidney," Bruno says, excitedly, clapping him on the back, causing Sidney to jump, falling out of his chair.

"Oops," Bruno says, pulling back sheepishly.

"It's okay. I'm okay," Sidney says from his new location on the floor. Boots didn't think people bent that way.

"Do you need help, getting up?" he asks, concerned.

"I think I'll just stay here," Sidney says, shifting around to sit cross-legged. "There's nowhere to fall from here."

"Good thinking," Bruno says, taking Sidney's vacated seat. "Now back to the band; Elmer, you liked all the attention you got when everyone thought you were quarterback, didn't you?"

"That is an affirmative."

"Do you know who gets even more action than athletes?" Bruno asks in a rhetorically. "Rock stars!"

"Well," Elmer says, flushing. "I did take piano lessons when I was younger. I had to give them up when I started my research on Castor canadensis because science is a demanding mistress, but I could probably pick it up again if I had reason to."

"Great!" Bruno says.

"I did always want to play the triangle," Wilbur says.

"The triangle?" Boots asks. This is just too ridiculous. Plus, this is getting worryingly close to Bruno making Boots be in said band. Boots didn't know he was tone deaf until a really traumatic christmas concert in eight grade. Somehow, no one thought to mention that his off-key warbling is not what music actually sounds like. It would have been nice to know before he was laughed off the stage in front of the school. He has resolutely stayed away from singing ever since then, not even singing along with the radio in his empty car or humming in the shower.

"Boots, don't discourage our friend's musical ambitions," Bruno cuts off his line of questioning. "The triangle is a noble instrument. We'd love to have you play it in our band," Bruno tells Wilbur.

"Now, what about you Boots? What are you playing."

"I don't think I can be in the band," Boots says, carefully blank. If history is anything to go by, he's not going to be able to get out of it. But he's certainly going to try. He doesn't want to play music and the thought of helping Bruno get girls is settling like a heavy, unhappy lump in his stomach. Bruno wants someone that's not Boots, and Boots can't stop himself from jumping to the worst conclusion, that it's someone specific, the whole band a plot to woo himself a pretty, little girlfriend. It makes an unfortunate amount of sense. Bruno doesn't waste effort on pointless endeavors, or doing things just for their own sake. He always has a goal in mind, is always out for his own end. It's never struck Boots like this before, because everything Bruno wants has always been Boots wants too. Bruno's not selfish, he's friendish, if Boots can be allowed to make up words in his head, wanting what's best for all of them. And it seems that while Boots was deciding that what's best for them is to continue exactly as is, Bruno has decided they all need girlfriends.

"Earth to Boots," Bruno says, snapping his fingers in front of Boots's face, and Boots frowns, flushing, realizing he missed whatever Bruno said. Everyone's looking at him, and he doesn't know what to say.

"Sorry, I spaced."

"Don't worry," Bruno says, "I'll find something for you to play in the band."

"That's not what I'm worried about," Boots says glumly.

"Now, the rest of you, we'll have our first band practice on Wednesday. Practice by yourselves until then. Mark, you start working on writing us some song lyrics. Chris, do you think you could bring your camera to film practice? We're going to need the footage for our music video. I'll start tweeting Jordie. He's got 20,000 followers. One mention of us on his twitter and we'll be famous."

"That's your plan?" Boots asks. It's an unfortunately good plan. Girls love Jordie.

Bruno ignores Boots's question, to continue doling out tasks. "Larry, do you think you can get a website set up for us on the school's servers?"

"You need official permission from the Fish, to be hosted by the school, it's really only for official clubs."

"But you can push the paperwork through," Bruno says.

"But I can push the paperwork through," Larry echoes.

"Great," Bruno says. "Now everyone out, I need to convince Boots to be in our band."

\---

Despite Bruno's best efforts, Boots is not convinced to join the band.

First, Bruno tries to make Boots sing. "Come on, even if you can't play an instrument, anyone can sing," Bruno insists.

"I can't," Boots says.

"We've had karaoke here before; I'm sure I've heard you sing," Bruno says.

"No, you haven't," Boots says for the zillionth time.

"Come on, we'll play screamo or something, you can do that."

"No."

And so it goes, until Boots can't take any more of Bruno's hassling.

Behind closed doors and with a cross your heart and hope to die swear Boots agrees to sing for him, if only to get Bruno to stop harassing him about it. Before they get to the first chorus, Bruno pauses the song on his computer, and concedes the point to Boots. "Fine, you can't sing."

"That's what I've been telling you," Boots says, rolling his eyes. Maybe things can go back to normal now. Boots doesn't even get what the big deal is about the band. He hasn't heard Bruno play yet. It's ridiculous.

But that doesn't deter Bruno. Instead, he just hands over his guitar. "We'll just teach you to play guitar."

"But what about you?" Boots asks. This is Bruno's band; his big idea of the year. "What will you play in the band?"

"Don't worry about me," Bruno says, waving his hand dismissively. "Now, here's how you play." Bruno moves behind Boots, placing Boots's hands on the frets, and Boots startles. He can feel Bruno's heat radiating all along his back, and Bruno's voice when he says "now strum," is practically murmured in his ear.

It takes everything Boots has not to shudder, and his voice stutters when he says "O- okay," and strums the guitar.

A week and very little progress later Bruno declares Boots ready for band practice. On the one hand, Boots is glad that the private guitar lessons with Bruno are over because he's not sure how much longer he could take it without doing something about it. There's only so much Boots can take Bruno touching him and leaning in close to take his hands, rearranging his fingers on the fret board. It was the most exquisite torture.

On the other hand, he is not ready for band practice.

While Boots was busy failing at learning guitar, Bruno had rounded up Pete to sing lead, Perry to play bass, and Chris to take second guitar.

Their first practice can only be described as terrible. Boots can't keep up, having to stop and think about every chord before he plays them. They don't have lyrics yet, so Pete sits in the corner and tries to study, except every time the band gets in a groove where they might actually make it to the end of a song Pete interrupts to get help from Elmer on some problem or another. They call it a day when Sidney accidentally looses grip on his drum stick and it goes flying, breaking the overhead light in the room.

At their second rehearsal, Sidney breaks a lamp; at their third, a decorative urn; and forth, fifth, and sixth, a window, a chair, and a platter of turkey respectively.

It's the last one that causes triangle-playing Wilbur to stop and say "I don't think this is working."

"I'm sorry," Sidney says, nervously. "I promise I can hold onto my drumstick better next time."

"You better," Wilbur says bitterly, "before your drumsticks destroy anymore more drumsticks I was going to eat."

The thing is, Committee306 (as the band has been names; they all felt their year was sadly lacking in committees) has been getting better. The rest of them can make it to the end of songs, and at the end they're still together. They finally got to the point where Pete is singing with them, and he has a way better voice than Boots realized, having avoided any and all karaoke at the hall. Even considering all the stuff that Sidney's broke, he hasn't broken the drums or himself yet, which is shockingly unprecedented. But Boots is not getting better.

"Don't yell at Sidney," Boots says. "It's not his fault he's clumsy."

"Thanks Boots," Sidney says.

"You guys sound good. I'm holding you back," Boots says taking off Bruno's guitar and handing it back to Bruno, who's taken on some type of manager role, watching rehearsals and telling them all what to do. "I'll go find you another turkey, you keep practicing."

"But Boots," Bruno starts.

"No Bruno. This is your band. Take your proper place. You're idea might actually work this time."

"But it's not," Bruno says.

"What?" Elmer asks from behind his keyboard (Bruno's been trying to finance a keytar for him, but so far he's not having much luck). "I disagree. I calculate our rate of improving at 34.6% per rehearsal."

"That's not it," Bruno says. "You guys sound great. But no matter how many times I tweet Jordie, he won't re-tweet us. We still only have 7 followers. I think it's time to take a new tactic."

"I'm already in Committee, I don't have time to be in another committee," Pete says.

"There's no reason to form a committee," Boots says confused. "The school doesn't need any money. We already have a new pool."

"And the kitchen is brand new. My uncle's restaurant donated equipment," Wilbur says.

"The Canadian government gave us a grant for new science labs as a thank you for saving the bush rats," Elmer says.

"And Tank Carson built us a new club house two years ago. Certainly we don't need a new new one yet," Chris says from behind his camera.

"We may not need anything, but there are people out there with less than we have. We can have a charity concert for your boys," Bruno says looking at Boots.

"My what?"

"You know, from your camp," Bruno says.

"Yes . . ." Boots says tentatively. He's weary of agreeing with Bruno before he knows all the details. It usually ends in mayhem and dish duty. No matter how much Boots might possibly maybe be in love with Bruno, he's done enough dish duty to last him a lifetime.

"Then it's settled! We're going to have a charity concert to raise money for Boot's camp," Bruno says. "We can raise money for a good cause and become famous at the same time. People will buy tickets to support a good cause and then when they hear us they'll go crazy; we'll kill two birds with one stone."

"There are fourteen species of bird native to this part of Canada," Elmer says. "And four of them are endangered due to human interference. So, we shouldn't kill any birds."

"Don't worry Elmer, it's just an expression," Boots says. "And you can't just throw a benefit concert," Boots tells Bruno. "There are non-profit rules, and school rules, and noise ordinances," Boots says.

"Now you're worrying too much," Bruno says. "I'll talk to the Fish and take care of it. You just worry about band practice."

"No," Boots says, "you guys worry about band practice. I'll go round up some new turkey for you," Boots tells Wilbur.

\---

Boots has no idea how Bruno's conversation with the Fish goes because he barely sees Bruno anymore. It must go well because the concert is on and Bruno crazy busy planning it.

Boots takes his own advice and talks to the Fish. It turns out that the girls from Miss Scrimmage's are actually allowed to visit, during the day, with a reason, with permission. And since he and Diane were both dumb enough to take Latin this year, they have no problem getting all the forms signed off on so they can study together.

Which is totally what they're doing in Boots's room on this Saturday afternoon. Diane stole Boots's bed to sit on, spreading out with her laptop on her lap, textbook, and notebooks spilling out of her bag next to her.

Boots is sitting at his desk glaring down at his book. "What do you mean I'm pronouncing it wrong?" Boots asks exasperatedly. "No one even speaks this dumb language, it's impossible to know I'm wrong."

"And I'm sure that argument will work on Mr. Peret," Diane says, rolling her eyes at Boots' whining. "At least try to get it right."

"Fine, fine," Boots' concedes.

"We can take a break if you want," Diane says, taking pity on him. "I brought cookies from the baking club," Diane says pulling a tupperware out of her bag, with Mary Poppins-like magic. Boots is sure all of her stuff could not possibly have fit in that bag.

"You are amazing," Boots says abandoning his desk, and crawling past the mess of Diane's stuff on his bed to sit next to here and take a cookie.

"I know," she says. "Where's the other inhabitant of you room?" she asks looking around.

"Band try-outs for the concert. He told some of the local high schools about it, and now apparently there are too many bands," he says glumly. "He's always off doing something for the concert. I never thought I'd miss the committee days."

"Aww, poor Boots," Diane says making an exaggerated, sympathetic face, patting his head condescendingly.

"I don't want any of your shit," Boots says, batting away her hand. "How's your woo-your-roommate scheme going," Boots asks, slyly, to get back at her.

Except she just smiles and says "good," ending the discussion by changing the topic. "Hey, did you see this video?" she asks, pulling her laptop on her lap and opening up youtube. "It's amazing."

‘It' turns out to be a shot for shot remake of a Taylor Swift music video with two guys, and it's exactly as amazing as Diane says. Which is why the two of them are huddled together laughing and grinning like idiots when Bruno gets back.

"Ugh, other schools suck," Bruno says, frustrated, slamming the door before he notices the two of them sitting there.

Boots jumps at the sound of Bruno's entrance, startled. There's nothing to be worried or guilty about but the way Bruno is staring at him makes him squirm inside. It's uncomfortable and they're all silent, looking at each other, as Taylor continues to sing about being stuck on the bleachers on Diane's laptop.

"What are you doing?" Bruno asks, accusingly, breaking the silence.

"Studying Latin," Boots says. Bruno lifts his eyebrow disbelievingly. "Okay," Boots adds, "we were taking a break from studying Latin."

"I can leave, if I'm interrupting," Bruno says, still unhappy.

"There's nothing to interrupt," Diane says, "stay, I'm not kicking you out of your room."

"Really," Boots adds, "we want to hear all about what's wrong with other schools." He shifts over so he's no longer sitting so close to Diane and looks earnestly at Bruno.

Bruno must believe him (whether or not he believes they're telling the truth) because he slumps down on his bed, and says "I am never going to say another bad thing about the Fish ever again."

"What happened?" Diane asks.

"Mrs. Vitale, the principal at East High School, is a fucking moron. She wouldn't let us on school grounds for tryouts, even though I spoke to her about it half a dozen times on the phone this week, until our parents signed a release form. She doesn't want to be liable if the school, I don't know, collapses on us or whatever," Bruno waves his hands around to emphasize how ridiculous the idea of the school falling down is. Boots isn't so sure. With Bruno there the school falling down is a definite possibility.

"She didn't seem to understand why we couldn't just go home and get our parents to sign," Bruno continues. "No matter what we said, she just could not understand the _boarding school_ aspect of going to a boarding school."

"That sucks," Boots says.

"Yea, and now I have to talk to the Fish to see if we can have try-outs here some night this week.

"Wait," Diane interrupts. "We don't have to try out, do we?"

"No, all the bands that sign up from the Hall or Miss Scrimmage's are automatically in, because I like you guys."

"Sweet, sweet nepotism," Diane says. "I like it."

\---

If you asked Boots, he would have said it was impossible for Bruno to get any busier. He would have been wrong. Apparently it's much easier to organize unauthorized flash mobs than it is to work with local law enforcement, school officials, hired security, stage and sound and lighting rental companies, and several area schools to run a fully authorized benefit concert. Bruno is up and out before Boots wakes up most days, and is busy straight through until the end of the day, running in right before curfew most nights.

Boots stills sees Bruno in class and at meals and at hockey practice, but it's just not the same.

Boots gets back from swim practice and is surprised to find Bruno in their room, sitting at his desk.

"Hey," he says. "I didn't expect to see you here."

"I shouldn't be," Bruno says. "I promised I'd help Pete get the ads out for the show, but if I don't finish this paper, Schaffer is going to fail me."

"Can I do anything?" Boots asks. Bruno has been oddly reluctant to let Boots help with the show, ever since Boots quit the band, even though he doesn't seem to have a problem pulling in the rest of the school.

"Really?" Bruno asks. "That would be incredible," he says in relief. "Thank you so much. Pete's supposed to have finished printing up fliers and we were going to go into town to see if the stores along Main Street would put posters up in the windows."

"Sure, no problem," Boots says. "I assume he's at the newspaper office?"

"Yes," Bruno says, "I'll text him and let him know you're on your way. Thank you so much, you're a life saver."

"No problem," Boots says, confused but happy to help. Bruno never gives Bruno a choice about helping, and never says thank you. It goes without saying that a Bruno-lead scheme has Boots as the second-in-command spot.

\---

After that first time Boots helped hang up posters, Bruno becomes more willing to let Boots help out with the concert.

That doesn't mean that Boots sees Bruno any more often. Bruno is a master delegator. He is constantly sending Boots off to help Wilbur organize the caterer doing the concession stand, or to work with Larry in the office to make sure the Fish signs off on all the necessary paperwork for renting port-a-potties (and fun fact: port-a-potty companies take their work way too seriously. The first place they call refuses to rent to them because Larry and Boots can't stop laughing when they call them.)

And then suddenly it's the Friday night before the concert. There's a swim meet, and Boots apologizes to Bruno that he won't be there to help with any of the last details. Bruno just waves him away, with a ‘break-a-leg' and ‘beat those turkeys!'

Boots doesn't get back to the Hall until after dinner, and he grabs a sandwich from the cafeteria on his way back to his room to see if there's anything Bruno needs help with.

He swings the door open and has his mouth open to ask what he can do when he realizes that the room's dark and that Bruno is in his bed.

"Bruno?" he asks, quietly, not wanting to disturb him if he's already asleep.

"Boots?" Bruno says, rolling over to look at Boots.

"What are you doing?"

"Trying to sleep," Bruno says, like it's obvious.

"But it's early."

"There was nothing to do, and the tech crew gets here at 4 am to try and set up. I thought I'd try to get a good night's sleep. But my body won't cooperate."

"Oh, sorry," Boots says. "Let me drop my stuff, and I'll leave so you can sleep."

"No, stay," Bruno says.

"Okay," Boots says, putting his stuff down, and lying down on his bed, turned on his side to look at Bruno on the opposite side of his room. It's been too long since they've done this, just been in the same place at the same time. Lying in the dark across from Bruno feels like the most familiar thing in the world, like coming home (the way actually going home never feels).

"Thank you for all your help with this show," Bruno says softly breaking the silence.

"Bruno," Boots says in fond exasperation. "You don't have to thank me."

"Still," Bruno starts. But there's no end to his sentence.

"I wanted to help, I missed you," Boots says, before he can think better of it. It feels safe to say these things, Bruno an unclear, fuzzy shape in the dark.

"Sorry," Bruno says with a laugh that's a huff of breath, like he doesn't want to break the calm of the moment either, like he might be as aware of all the unspoken things sitting between them as Boots, like he's as aware of this precipice they're standing on.

"I'm always up for a good committee," Boots says. "When do I ever say no to you?"

"When we were trying to get rid of Mr. Wizzle," Bruno says, but Boots knows it's not a serious complaint; he can hear the smile in Bruno's voice when he says it.

"God, you're never going to let me live that down, are you?" he says. "That was eighth grade."

"There's no statute of limitations for abandoning your best friend in his time of need," Bruno says, teasing.

"I came around eventually," Boots says, defending himself against Bruno's joke. "I always do."

"That's what I'm counting on," Bruno says under his breath, so quietly that Boots isn't sure he's meant to hear it.

"What?" he asks.

"Oh nothing, I'm just ready for tomorrow to go off without a hitch," Bruno says, changing the topic.

Boots lets it go, letting Bruno talk about the concert, until they fall asleep.

\---

The morning of the concert arrives too quickly, and Bruno's busy running around like a chicken with his head cut off, even before the sun comes up.

When Boots arrives after breakfast Bruno sets him up backstage, making sure the bands are there and on deck, ready to go when it's their turn.

Boots runs through the schedule on the clipboard. It looks simple enough. He has the lineup. Except for the second to last band, which is just labeled as ‘don't worry about it,' on Boots spreadsheet. Boots ducks out to find Bruno in between directing a lost group of parents here to watch the show back out front and getting bottled water for a band from South High.

"What's the deal with this band?" Boots asks Bruno, pulling him aside.

"Don't worry about it," Bruno says.

"I know, that's what the sheet says," Boots says, waving his clipboard around for emphasis.

"Yes, I did write that," Bruno says rolling his eyes. "And you should take those instructions."

"But-" Boots starts. Bruno cuts him off with a wave, taking off in the direction of the ticket booth.

"I don't have time for this, Boots."

"But you put me in charge!" Boots says. He does not stomp his foot in frustration. That's just a very enthusiastic step.

"I put you in charge of all the bands but that one," Bruno calls back running off, leaving Boots glaring at his back.

Despite not being a difficult task, it's a busy task, and Boots gets caught up in the tents checking bands in, getting them set up, and making sure everyone has everything they need.

So, the first time Boots sees the front of house after doors is when he ducks side-stage to watch Bruno open the show. Bruno gives a speech about giving back and how they're about to have their faces rocked off, but Boots only gets the general gist of it, too stunned to notice the details. The crowd is huge, students from all the local high schools coming to support their local bands, and families and friends packing the lawn. It doesn't look like something put together by some students. It's a real, professional concert.

And then he's back to the tents queuing up Squiggle Kitties, a band of four girls in baby-doll dresses to open the show. From there, he's off and running, only passing Bruno long enough to say "wow" and "I can't believe you did this" as they pass side-stage when Boots leads each next band to the stage stairs.

When it's Cathy and Diane's turn, Boots stays side stage to watch them. They have a riot grrl-thing going for them, Cathy, their singer and frontman, dressed like she's going to a costume party as Taylor Momson with too much black eye makeup, a pink slip, ripped fishnets and crazy heels. Diane is in a similar get-up, but with heavy looking black boots, behind a bass, and it's strange to see her out of her usual good-girl getup. But they're rocking it, the crowd jumping up and down, waving their hands when Cathy demands it, as dynamic a leader as Bruno is any day. Boots spots Miss Scrimmage in the crowd, looking startled at her innocent little girls up there, but there's nothing she can do on the other side of security.

Cathy screams the chorus of their song, "sometimes I doubt your commitment to Sparkle Motion," breaking as their guitarist, some girl from Scrimmage's that Boots doesn't know, steps up for a solo. Cathy stalks over to Diane's side of the stage, and grabs her for a kiss. Boots's eyes go wide, and the crowd screams their approval. Boots can't look away from where Cathy's hands are tangled in Diane's hair, Cathy's mouth plundering Diane's. But she breaks away to finish the song, and Boots glances over to where Miss Scrimmage was standing to find a cluster of medics holding up the old woman.

They finish out their song, and run off the stage one at a time, the drummer, the guitarist, and then Diane. Boots doesn't let her past, grabbing her arm to stop her. "When did that start?" he asks rushed and excited.

Diane's eyes are wide and blown, and Boots can't imagine the rush of coming off that performance. "Right now," she screams back at him, to be heard over the roar of the crowd that Cathy's still egging on behind them, bouncing on her toes, giddy.

"Oh my god," Boots shouts back at her. That's insane.

"Sorry, Diane can't talk now," Cathy says, bounding down the stairs pulling Diane out of Boots's hold. "Bye Boots."

"Bye," he calls after them as they run back towards the tents, Cathy wrapping Diane up in her arms.

Boots is lucky the next band is one of the ones who know what they're doing, because they get themselves together and join him side stage before they're supposed to go on without any doing on his part. Boots gets himself together during their performance. They're a jam band from a school south of them, and they have a bit of a following, so the crowd is into them, but it's nothing Boots is particularly into.

There's just a few couple more bands at this point, some act that Boots's spreadsheet says Bruno will handle, the guys from the Hall getting the coveted last spot.

Boots is just heading back to hang out with the guys from the hall until it's their turn when Mark comes running out of the tent, pointing at the sky and shouting at Boots.

"What?" Boots asks as Mark comes within hearing distance, even over the roar of the band on stage.

"The helicopter," Mark says, pointing up. "We're getting real news coverage," he shouts excitedly.

Boots looks up. There's a helicopter in the air, and it's getting closer, whir of the blades barely masked by the sound of the concert as it continues to _get closer_. Boots eyes widen as he watches it heading towards the East lawn. "I don't think that's a news copter," Boots shouts back as it lands, taking off towards it.

He meets Bruno halfway, running towards it from the opposite direction. "I swear I didn't break any rules this time," Bruno shouts.

"I know," Boots says, continuing on, despite the wind from the blades making it harder and harder to keep going.

When the helicopter blades stop suddenly, the quiet is defining.

The door swings open and Jordie jumps out. "Hey guys, did I miss the big show?"

"Jordie!" Bruno shouts excitedly. "I thought you were ignoring me. I tweeted you like, a million times."

"Sorry dude, I don't manage my own twitter account," Jordie says, exchanging a back-slapping hug with Bruno. "That's all Goose. I didn't get your messages until last night."

"What?" Boots asks, confused.

"I told you I was tweeting Jordie about the band," Bruno says.

"But- but-" Boots stutters at a loss. "He's the secret act?"

"No, of course not," Bruno says. "He's here for something else."

"Don't worry about it," Jordie says, misinterpreting Boots confusion. "I'm hear now. Did you still want me to do that thing?"

"Yes, you're just in time," Bruno says, grabbing Jordie's arm as he starts to walk, dragging Jordie back towards the show.

Boots is lost. There's a helicopter on the lawn, and as Boots stands there, the door opens again, and Goose staggers out.

"Which way did they go?" Goose asks, a crazed look in his eyes.

"That way," Boots says pointing. Then, thinking of it, he takes off, running in that direction.

"Wait, what?" Boots asks, panting when his sprint catches him up to Bruno and Jordie. "Bruno, what's going on? Does this have to do with the next act?" Why won't Bruno tell him anything, dammit.

"Sort of," Bruno says. "Jordie is announcing the next act."

"But who is it?"

"It's a surprise." Bruno has to shout of the roar of the crowd as the band that's currently on stage finishes up.

"Sorry, man," Jordie says apologetically. "You'll just have to watch and see."

Bruno pulls them past security, waving his badge, rounding the tents and heading towards the stage entrance. Boots looks around wildly. There's a burly security guard at the gate, stopping Goose's progress.

Boots can't waste any time going back though because Bruno and Jordie keep moving forward, and again Boots is scrambling to keep up with them, following them right up the stairs. He stops short at the deafening roar of the crowd when Jordie takes the mic and steps into the spotlight.

The girls are going crazy. Jordie just smiles the smile that lets him grace the covers of teen magazines the world over, and says "Hey."

The crowd, if possible, gets louder at that. "Now, quiet down, so I can talk to all you lovely people," he says making a charming hushing motion, that get all the girls to do exactly as he asks. "Today, we're here to raise money for a good cause. There are a lot of kids who don't have as much as we do. And we're raising money so they can go to science camp. So give yourselves a big round of applause for helping out a good cause."

The crowd roars to life with Jordie-sanctioned cheering. Boots looks out at the sea of people, and is once again stunned at all that Bruno was able to pull off. His eyes land at the side of the crowd, at the empty space that Miss Scrimmage was standing in earlier. Goose is standing there now, arms crossed, looking angrily at the stage.

"Okay, okay," Jordie says quieting them down after a moment. "Now, I've been inspired by you to do something too. Which is why I'm auctioning off an afternoon with me. If you'd like to bid on it, you can talk to my manager, Goose." Jordie pauses, scanning the crowd. He stops when he finds Goose and points, "he's standing right over there."

At Jordie's pronouncement, the crowd sways, like it's one creature, turning to look. But before there can be a stampede at Goose turns white, and collapses where he stands. The medics, still in the area, rush to him. Jordie laughs, self-consciously, ruffling the hair at the back of his head in a nervous gesture. "Or maybe not," he says. "I'll have to work out some other way to run this auction. Bruno will have details."

Jordie lights up again at that, letting his hand fall, resuming with confidence again. "Speaking of Bruno, he deserves a really big round of applause. He put this whole shindig together, he's the next performer, and I am proud to call him my friend," Jordie finishes with a flourish. The crowd bursts into applause and cheers, and Bruno comes forward from the dark depths of the stage, guitar slung over his shoulder, carrying a stool and a mic stand.

Boots takes a step forward. What is Bruno doing? Where's the mystery band? He's going to march right out there and demand to know what's going on. He can't take any more of Bruno sneaking around and ignoring him and hiding things. This is supposed to be their year.

He's stopped by a hand on his arm. Boots looks back, shocked to find all the guys from the hall behind him. "What?" he asks them bewildered.

"Just watch," Pete says.

On stage, Bruno puts down the stool and stand, and takes the mic from Jordie. He sits down and spins his guitar around, so he's holding it in playing position. It's not until then that he realizes he still hasn't heard Bruno play. He just assumed Bruno was in Committee306. But apparently not. Boots feels a rush of excitement, watching Bruno up there. He's finally going to get to hear Bruno play.

But Bruno doesn't start playing right away. He just sits there, looking at the crowd, hesitantly. "Um, hi," Bruno says. It's not how Boots has ever heard Bruno before. Bruno can command a crowd like no-one's business. "So, Jordie gave me a really great introduction." A murmur of cheering runs through the crowd, not sure whether they should let it all out for Jordie again. "But it's not me he should be thanking," Bruno turns his head, and for a second Boots is sure that Bruno is looking back at the wings for him. But then Bruno turns back to the stage, and confirms it. "I got the idea for this whole thing from my roommate and very best friend, Boots, who spent this summer working at the camp we're all here for today. He gives more than money to the cause. He gives his heart and soul to everything he ever does."

Boots's heart nearly stops as Bruno keeps talking. "So, I'm going to try and take a page from his book. I'm usually pretty good at giving speeches. But this is definitely more people than I've bared my heart in front of. Boots this is for you."

Bruno starts strumming his guitar. The tune is familiar, recognition nagging at the back of Boots's memory. The tune is wistful and slow; slower than it feels like it should be. Then Bruno opens his mouth and starts singing.

"You're on the phone with your girlfriend, She's upset," Bruno croons. It's that song, the one Diane made him listen to (again and again as they studied). Boots feels himself flushing as Bruno gets to the first chorus, the story coming back to him as Bruno sings "Been here all along so why can't you see? You belong with me."

There's really no way to misinterpret this song, although Boots tries, mind racing through all the things Bruno could be trying to say with it. Could he have found out about Boots' crush? Is this a joke? Is it just something random? Funny? What? But Bruno is singing slow, and earnest, and taken with his introduction he can't be.

Boots flashes back to the memory of Bruno's face when he found Boots and Diane studying that day. And Boots knows that Bruno is sincere. He steps forward again as Bruno carries out the last note of the song, a repetition of "you belong with me." This time, no one stops him, and when Bruno cranes his head around, Boots knows he's searching for him.

Bruno gets up, leaving the audience cheering and clapping and screaming behind him, to meet Boots half way. Boots's arms bang into Bruno's guitar slung back around his back again when he wraps his arms around Bruno, kissing him.

It's amazing and unbelievable, a dream come true, the sensation drowning out everything surrounding them. It's not until they Bruno pulls back that awareness of the rest of the world rushes back into Boots. Boots doesn't know when he closed his eyes, but he's afraid to open them now. He takes a tentative peek and closes his eyes again, burying his face in Bruno's neck. There's a lot of people out there, looking right at them.

"Come on," Bruno says, before letting go of Boots, taking his hand instead. "We can make out side stage while out friends play.

"Sounds good," Boots says smiling, as he lets Bruno pull him around. He opens his eyes again, back firmly to the crowd, facing their friends instead, who are no better, cheering and giving them thumbs up all around. Boots looks at all their faces, so happy for them, and feels dumb that he didn't say anything months ago. "I can't believe you did that," he says to Bruno. He can't stop himself from smiling like an idiot. His cheeks already hurt from how happy he is. He has to get himself under control. But Bruno's hand is in his, and Bruno pulled off this show for him. They haven't been in trouble once this year, no dish duty or detention. And despite his goal to change nothing, he can't imagine a better way for senior year to play out.

Committee306 runs onto the stage, taking their places on stage, but Boots misses it entirely. He's too busy feeling Bruno's smile against his lips as they kiss again. The band kicks off a fast paced, upbeat song, covering the noise of the crowd with rock.

The music should drown out Sidney exclaim "oh shit," but they're so attuned to him injuring himself, that they break their kiss and turn to look at the stage. Sidney's drumstick has flown out of his hand and into the lights, breaking a bulb in a shower of sparks. The crowd screams. The band keeps playing. Boots turns back to Bruno, and kisses him again. The fireworks behind his eyes might just be broken light-bulbs, but that doesn't make this any less perfect.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi Nimori! I hope you like Taylor Swift. [This is the video that Boots and Diane watch.](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F-xe5n18GQY)


End file.
